


Coney Island

by madlaw



Series: Moments In Time [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Carnival Games, F/F, Flirting, Food, Root knows how to play Shaw, Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlaw/pseuds/madlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw locks the door and pushes Root against it, pressing their lips together, roughly seeking entrance.  Root responds in kind, lust evident.  Shaw pulls away and bites her neck hard, making her gasp.  Root scrapes her nails down Shaw’s back underneath her shirt, fueling their sexual adrenaline.  Shaw draws back and looks at Root, “You’re so fucking hot.”  Root pulls Shaw’s hair exposing her neck to Root’s mouth.  She nibbles and licks her way to Shaw's ear.  Root exhales and lets her hot breath tickle.  “I want you to fuck me.”  Shaw sees the excitement on Root's face.  "Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you."  Clearly Shaw's going to make her beg.  Root's never asked anyone to fuck her, but she's pretty sure if she did they wouldn't ask how.  "Why don't I show you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coney Island

**Author's Note:**

> Some mild bdsm.

Root tracks Shaw down after a mission.    

“Hey sweetie, have time for a hotdog?  My treat.”  There’s a gentle breeze and strands of her hair are blowing messily onto her face.  She’s looking at Shaw with that adoring gleam in her eyes, smiling warmly.  Shaw knows it’s the smile Root reserves for her.   

She rolls her eyes, not at all surprised Root tracked her down.  Root shows up randomly, sometimes in person, sometimes over comms.  She’s used to it.  Whatever.  “No Root, I do not have time for a hotdog.”  The boardwalk is teaming with tourists constantly invading her personal space and Shaw can’t wait to get away from them.  Her tone reeks of annoyance.

But Root pleads with her eyes, confident she can entice Shaw with food.  Root’s eyes are brown, but they’re clear like glass.  It always unnerves Shaw on those occasions when she holds Root’s gaze.  Suddenly, it’s hot and Shaw starts walking away.  But Root never lets Shaw’s grumpiness deter her and she follows along, easily keeping the pace.

“You can’t come to Coney Island and not eat a hot dog Sameen.  It’s covered in chili…”  Only Root gets away with calling her Sam or Sameen.  Everyone else gets their head bitten off and rather quickly learns to just call her Shaw.  She’s not sure when that happened or why she lets Root get away with it; it’s just the way it is. 

Root always seems to get under her skin, making her itchy and more often than not Shaw gets away from her as quickly as possible.  Well, except for those times they’ve had sex.  Shaw has a rule.  At most she’ll sleep with someone three times.  She doesn’t want attachments or relationships or people talking to her about their feelings.  But with Root it’s already a speck in the rear view mirror.  Shaw sighs and Root knows she’s won. 

Anyway Shaw’s always hungry and she knows giving in to Root is easier than fighting her once she’s set her mind on something.  “Fine, but you’re buying me two… and a beer…or three as the case may be.”  Root smiles widely and links her arm with Shaw’s.  Although Shaw scowls, she doesn’t pull away. 

Nathan’s Famous was established in 1916 and their hotdogs are widely touted as the best in the country.  Shaw orders two chili dogs with crinkle cut fries and a beer.  She also orders a club sandwich for Root, knowing she won’t eat a hotdog. 

But Root claims she’s not hungry.  Shaw knows Root doesn’t eat nearly enough to keep up with her body’s nutritional needs.  She’s lean and lanky, not an ounce of fat on her body.  If you didn’t know her, you’d think she had an eating disorder.  But Root simply forgets to eat.  When she’s coding especially. 

So Shaw usually tries to feed her when she’s around; although she refuses to consider why she cares whether Root eats or not.  “Root, coffee is not a food group.  If you eat the sandwich I’ll stay here for _one_ hour.”  Needing no other incentive, Root eats the sandwich…with a cup of coffee.  Shaw finishes her hotdogs in four bites and makes Root buy her another beer. 

Root’s bursting with glee.  It’s not often she can spend time with Shaw when they’re not having sex.  She’s never felt this way before but everything’s more intense and she feels more connected to life when Shaw’s around, even when she’s being ignored.  It’s like a craving she can’t completely satisfy.  But Root likes that Shaw doesn’t feel like other people.  Somehow it makes them click.  _Clicking’s probably against Shaw’s rules._      

“Come on Sam; let’s go ride the Cyclone Roller Coaster.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and growls, “I am not riding a roller coaster Root.”  But as usual Root somehow manages to get Shaw to do things she wouldn’t normally do.  She sees it as its happening but it doesn’t seem to matter.  She does them anyway.

Root knows how to push her buttons in more ways than one.  “Okay sweetie, I didn’t realize you couldn’t handle the ride.”  Shaw grinds her teeth.  She knows she’s being manipulated but acquiesces anyway.  “I am not afraid of anything.”  Root gives her a disbelieving look.  “Fine,” Shaw huffs.   

When they get to the coaster there’s a long line.  Root knows Shaw won’t wait so she flirts with the attendant, who lets them jump the line.  Shaw watches and feels annoyed watching this guy rake his gaze along Root’s body.  She gives him a death stare and his eyes pop back into his head.  Root notices and gives her a knowing smile.  Shaw just rolls her eyes and looks away. 

The Cyclone is an iconic wooden roller coaster, but it packs some serious punch when it comes to its drops and turns.  They’re in the last car, which provides the most intense experience.  On the final drop they fly at least five inches off their seats.  Although Shaw doesn’t scream, Root sees the delighted look on her face during the two minutes the ride lasts.  When the ride’s over, she looks at Root.  “Okay, it didn’t suck.”  Root shakes her head laughing. 

When she suggests they ride the bumper cars next, Shaw doesn’t argue.  Slamming into other people sounds like something she’d like. 

They wander over to the carnival games.  Root catches Shaw looking at the shooting gallery with interest.  “You know Sam the shooting gallery has cast-iron targets; they’re supposed to be harder to knock down.”  Shaw feigns indifference.  But…“I’m always up for some target practice, might as well get some use out of this annoying stroll.” 

Of course she knocks all the targets down with ease, but Root catches her smiling before she hides it behind her usual façade.  When the carnie offers Shaw her choice of prizes though, she stalks away, scowling.  Root picks a dog looking surprisingly like Bear and hurries after her.

Shaw refuses to admit she’s having fun, but agrees when Root suggests they stop for a drink.  Root orders her a shot of Astral tequila and a draft beer, settling on an Old Fashioned for herself.  Shaw looks at her suspiciously but knocks back the tequila without salt or lime.  Astral requires neither; it’s one of the best tequila’s in the world.  

They sit at the long wooden counter overlooking the boardwalk and the ocean.  There’s a crowd but not enough of one to annoy Shaw.  Root nurses her drink, but Shaw orders another shot and beer.  Root knows it takes a lot more than a couple of shots and beers to get Shaw drunk and she hopes it helps her relax.

Rare for Shaw, she starts talking without prompting.  “As a kid one of my dad’s postings was in Qandahar.  There was this roundabout in the playground.  The first time I tried it, I got sick and the other kids laughed at me.  So I went back the next day and spun all day long until I stopped getting sick.  It became my safe place.”    

Root never teases during these unguarded moments Shaw shares with her.  And she never tries to insert her own opinions or analyze what Shaw says.  She just listens.  The moments are uniquely intimate.  Sex for them is hot, and fun, and occasionally tender.  But somehow it’s just not the same.  Shaw doesn’t talk to anyone else like this.  So Root never refers to their talks afterwards, even indirectly.  If Shaw needs to pretend they don’t happen that’s fine with her.     

They sit for a while in comfortable silence watching the tourists.  Root laughs at their ridiculous outfits and tries to guess the price range of the ever present cameras.  Gradually she senses Shaw staring at her and looks over to see desire raging in her eyes.  Without another word, she grabs Root’s hand and leads her to the back of the bar intending to take them to the bathroom for some privacy.  But she spots a storage room instead. 

Opening the door, the bar-back’s inside stacking bottles of liquor.  Shaw snaps at him. “Out.  Now.”  He takes one look at her and decides silence is the better part of valor and makes himself scarce.  There’s a strange odor like when you’re hung over and the alcohol escapes through your pores.  The ceiling fan hums as it spins.  Surprisingly the sound is soothing. 

Shaw locks the door and pushes Root against it, pressing their lips together roughly.  Root grabs her hair and pulls her closer, moaning at the feel of Shaw’s body pressed against her.  Shaw pulls away and rakes Root’s neck with her teeth, sucking right at her pulse point, making Root gasp. 

She scrapes her nails down Shaw’s back underneath her shirt, fueling their sexual adrenaline. Shaw draws back and looks at her, “You’re so fucking hot.”  Root nibbles and licks her way to Shaw's ear.  She exhales slowly and whispers.  “I want you to fuck me.”  The words combined with the heat of Root’s breath ignite a burning desire that coils in Shaw’s belly. 

She sees the hunger in Root's eyes and if she has to wait one more second to touch her she knows she’ll combust.  She pulls Root’s skirt up until its riding her thighs and finds Root’s commando.  She’s wet, and hot, and so ready.  The words are out of Shaw’s mouth before she can swallow them.  “I love it when you come undone for me.”  Root gives her that knowing smile and Shaw doesn’t even care that Root planned for this all along. 

But it does earn Root a little punishment.  She’s writhing in anticipation but Shaw makes her wait.  She strokes her slit teasingly, while she places her free hand on her neck, massaging erotically.  Her stroke is sensual, soft, but gradually grows more firm and intentioned.  “Sam…please…”  It sounds like a prayer.  Shaw can smell Root’s arousal and it’s that scent that will be her undoing, its persuasive power stronger than any words Root could utter.  She can’t resist, it enters like a breath into her lungs, filling her up, imbuing everything.  There’s no remedy. 

Shaw doesn’t take her eyes off Root’s.  She begins to apply the slightest pressure to her throat.   Root can’t stop herself from moaning.  In an erotic daze, her arousal increases exponentially.  All she knows is that she doesn’t want Shaw to stop. Every time Shaw squeezes her neck just a bit harder, she feels the blood rush to her head, pulsing and throbbing; the feeling echoing inside her. She’s dazed from lack of oxygen and an excess of arousal.

Root wraps her leg around Shaw’s hip.  Gasping, she pleads, “I want you inside me…now.  Hard and fast.”  Shaw enters Root with three fingers, pounding hard, bruising her clit with her thumb.  She squeezes Root’s throat harder. The sensations in the back of Root’s eyes and in her clit are like nothing she’s ever felt before.

Her body’s thrashing and she grabs Shaw’s hand with her own, trying to get her to squeeze harder, longer.  Shaw’s intoxicated with the sight of Root desperate and needy just for her.  “I’m going to make you come hard."  Root feels sensually dominated, close to Shaw, exposed.

Shaw knows how to control Root’s breath and body.  Root’s communicating with her eyes, telling her when to stop, how much pressure to apply.   She slows down her thrusting, and begins to rub Root’s clit in a circular motion.

“I want to hear you scream my name when you come."   The words send a jagged bolt of _lightning_ down Root’s spine, _straight_ to her groin.  Shaw knows Root's orgasm’s not far off.  She holds her throat firmly in her hand and applies more pressure, completely awed by the power Root gives her. 

Root feels like she’s going to pass out and tries to gasp for air, but she can’t.  A moment later her body tenses and she experiences an orgasmic explosion as Shaw releases her throat, breath and pleasure colliding in an erotic bliss.  It seems to go on forever.

"Shaw…"  Root’s panting so hard she can’t get the words in her brain to piece together a coherent sentence and she’s so spent she can’t stand on her own, but Shaw holds her up easily, gently cradling Root in her arms.  “Are you okay?”  Root looks up, smiling openly. 

“I can’t describe the feeling, intense.  I’ve never felt anything like it.”  Shaw doesn't lie, but usually she keeps her thoughts to herself, so her next words surprise her more than Root.  “Me either.”  Root smiles suggestively.  “Well don’t feel you have to deprive yourself.  I’m always available.”  Shaw rolls her eyes, but captures Root’s mouth with her own, effectively shutting her up.

As they slowly explore with their tongues, Shaw unbuttons her jeans and reaches in to touch herself.  Root can feel every move Shaw makes. As she takes her lips in her own, Root reaches between them, rubbing Shaw’s nipple with her fingers, using Shaw’s shirt to cause an almost painful friction.   

Shaw growls, biting Root’s lower lip hard, but immediately replaces her teeth with her tongue, soothing the bruised skin.  She continues to touch herself rhythmically, her orgasm building.  Root runs one hand up and down Shaw’s back and lowers the other from her nipple to the hand Shaw’s using to pleasure herself.  "Let me help you with that." 

Root turns her around, so her back is now pressed into Root.  She reaches her hand in on top of Shaw’s, intertwining their fingers.  Shaw feels the lub-dub sound of Root’s racing heart and it’s sublime and just for her.   

Root takes control and starts to circle their hands around Shaw’s clit but never quite getting there.  She uses her other hand to lower Shaw’s jeans further and slips two fingers inside her, pulling in and out slowly.  Shaw’s never been more grateful for Root’s taller height and longer limbs. 

She’s almost there, but Root won’t let her come, still teasing.  She’s panting so hard her words are almost impossible to decipher.  “You know what I want.  Give it to me.”  Root smiles at the intensity of Shaw's arousal.  “Okay Sameen…Come for me.”  As she says the words, Root grazes their hands onto Shaw’s clit, rubbing gently.  Shaw comes hard, pushing her head back into Root’s chest.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop.” 

Shaw slips her hand out from Root’s and brings it up to Root’s hair, tugging hard.  Root continues fucking her slowly and stroking her clit softly.  When Shaw’s spent, she turns her around so Shaw can see her lick her fingers unhurriedly.  Shaw leans in to taste herself in Root’s mouth.

As they recover their breaths, they straighten out their clothes, laughing softly.  "Sam...just wow!  Thanks."


End file.
